Of Keychains and Sentimentality
by Socially Suicidal
Summary: When they first began spending time together, Katara experienced firsthand his tendency to forget his car keys. First Zutara thing ever. One-shot. T for the most minimal vulgarities.


I posted this little thing on my writing Tumblr account a little while ago, and after some deliberation, decided to post my first stab at Zutara to my fanfiction account (I hold this account and what I post to it in very high regard, hence the hesitation).

It is only be fitting that my first Zutara ever be based on not only real life events, but events that transpired between me and my significant other (the combination and chemistry of which strangely and delightfully remind me of Zutara sometimes).

Lo and behold, my first Zutara ever. Let me know how much work it needs.

Of Keychains and Sentimentality

By Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do _not_ own Avatar: The Last Airbender

When they first began spending time together, Katara experienced firsthand his tendency to forget his car keys.

Under the distinct impression that the testy male had a plethora of personal responsibility to back up his sometimes pretentious attitude, Katara was wholesomely surprised when he left his car keys in her bedroom. No one, of course, noticed this rather egregious memory slip until she had driven across town to drop him off at his car and he violently patted down all of his pockets only to find his car keys missing. After that awful, double trip in the pouring rain with only the company of the male brooding in her passenger seat, Katara decided it best that from now on, whenever they found themselves in each other's presence, they clip their car keys together.

The idea was met with immediate and characteristic objection, objection quickly countered with, "Well have _I _ever forgotten my keys anywhere?" and promptly squashed.

For the next few weeks, whenever Katara was blessed by his company, no sooner would she greet him than snatch his keys from his belt loop and clip them to her own keychain. This practice went unchanged until one day, when he was departing and she unclipped their keys, one of her own tokens remained fastened on to his, otherwise boring, in her opinion, key chain.

The offending object was a small strap, intended to clip around a belt or belt loop, fashioned to resemble a mini seatbelt. On the button, a cartoon dolphin smiled and splashed in painted on waves. When Zuko noticed the stowaway, he began to unclasp it from his ring before she interrupted him, pointing out that since the part that buckled into it remained fastened on her keychain, it was far more convenient to clip the two together. Grumbling, but otherwise choosing not to argue, he nodded, pecked her lightly on the forehead, and clambered into his car.

Unbeknownst to her, Zuko received a myriad of responses as people noticed his car keys, which, as always, remained clipped to his belt at all times.

When Zuko shoved a blue and silver painted travel mug featuring a cartoon dolphin splashing on a beach into her hands, muttering something about "Uncle" and his "eccentric tendencies," Katara stifled laughter into her hands and told him to thank Iroh on her behalf.

Among his friends, Zuko's keychain became something of an inside joke. And when their relationship finally became official - the terms of which had been confusing her for weeks until she finally demanded to know _just what they were to one another, _to which he responded with a shrug and a mumbled, "You're my girlfriend, I guess" - the little dolphin seatbelt buckle became synonymous with Katara and something about Zuko being whipped. Or was it cuffed?

Regardless, when, around Christmas time, he suddenly demanded she hand him her keychain, she could hardly be surprised when he returned it sporting a soft leather tag, featuring a painted image of a fireball. She remembered smiling widely back at him, her thanks being shrugged off with the short explanation of "It was about time."

A month or two later, Katara was waiting for him to come over. She was feeling a little sick, so she had just put on her most comfortable pajamas, made his favorite tea, and was looking through her movie collection when he called her.

"Are you outside?"

Muffled noise.

"Katara, can you do me a big favor?"

"Uh, sure, what is it?"

"I'm not in legal trouble." Always her favorite premise to a request. "But can you come pick me up from the trooper station near school?"

Momentary silence. "W-what?"

"Can you?"

"Of course, I'm leaving now."

And she did. It took her fifteen minutes of heavy silence and white-gripped driving to get to the station, and as she pulled in, she recognized his tall frame in the doorway. Katara hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until he opened the passenger door and the light from her car revealed him to be fine. A breath.

Before he got in, he tossed something small at her, which, in her stupor, escaped the abilities of her reflexes and landed haphazardly in her lap. He clambered into the passenger seat shortly after, shutting the door and shivering slightly as the last of the wintry night air assaulted him.

"That's all that's left of my car." Zuko stated in the blunt, Zuko way of his, meeting her wide eyed stare cautiously.

Blinking, Katara looked down. The little seat buckle was the projectile, now teetering helplessly on her leg.

"This guy in front of me stopped really short. I feel fine, but the front of my car is pretty smashed in. It had to be towed."

Looking back up at him, she swallowed, blinked a few times, and proceeded to smack at his arm for all she was worth.

"Why couldn't you tell me on the phone what happened?"

"Katara, assaulting the victim of a car accident in a state trooper parking lot probably isn't a good look."

Scowling, and still moving in slow motion, Katara clutched the buckle in one hand and the steering wheel in the other as she pulled out of the parking lot.

The ride back to her house was filled with incessant questioning and divulging of the details of the accident until she finally understood the entire scenario.

Zuko had just pulled out of a gas station, looked out his window momentarily, and when he returned his eyes to the road he was already in the trunk of a middle aged man's Honda. The accident took place across the street from a state trooper base, the parking lot which the guy in front of the Honda had stopped to pull into, which was why Zuko had chosen there to wait for his girlfriend to pick him up.

When finally she pulled into her house, Katara's mind was reeling from the events of the past half hour. Numbly, she shoved Zuko through her front door and he collapsed on her couch, rubbing the unscarred half of his face and sighing.

"Thanks for coming to get me," he murmured as he stretched his legs.

Smacking his hands from his face, Katara plopped down next to him on her knees. She all but tackled him, throwing her body weight against his side and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm so happy you're okay," was muffled into the shoulder of his coat, "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I won't, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," a hiccup, "just promise."

"I promise I won't scare you like that again."

A pause.

"You really climbed back into your totaled car for a fucking keychain?"

She could feel his grin.

"It was worth it."


End file.
